Hair hung limp over her face, water dripping onto the tiled floor. Steam obscured her reflection in the mirror, leaving only an indistinct silhouette.

  It was superfluous right now, regardless. Lyra knew how she must have looked. Sobbing in the shower never failed to leave her eyes bloodshot. It had become somewhat of a habit in her routine over the past year. She couldn't help it. If she had the opportunity to cry by herself, she usually did.

  In the beginning, she'd taken special care using her power to make sure not a sound got out for her subordinates to hear, whether it was in her bed or in the bathroom. But she no longer bothered with any of that. If they overheard and thought less of her for showing weakness, she would put them in their place as needed. She expected one of them to backstab her sooner or later either way. And when they did, she would be ready.

  We always are.

  She dried herself off, throwing the towel over her shoulder as she opened the door. But she wasn't greeted by an empty locker room. Instead, her second in command stood there. There wasn't a hint of surprise on Lyra’s face. She had caught the arrival of the slightly older girl minutes ago; her hearing didn't lie, after all. Unless Hoodwink dropped a change on her head.

  “Xena,” she greeted coolly. Bloodbrand wasn’t in costume, so using civilian names was apt. Not that it mattered much to her.

  “Boss,” Xena said, eyes fighting desperately to keep looking at her face and failing, “are you okay?”

  “Yes.” The conversation should have ended there as far as she was concerned.

  Xena’s eyebrows pinched together in clear worry, but she didn’t push. Didn’t dare contradict Lyra’s word.

  Under our rule, she knows her place.

  Lyra ignored the flushed glances Xena kept stealing and went to get dressed. They had a window of time left until their next operation. Possibly a few hours. Should she stay on base? Wait in costume? The concept of boredom didn’t bother her any more than breathing did—both were equally miserable.

  She could also head over to the city in her civilian clothing, though that wasn’t necessary when she could just send her subordinates. That was what she normally did. Whenever she wasn’t training or preparing, she studied relevant subjects or spent her time reminiscing.

  “Boss,” Xena said again when she was pulling her shirt on. “I wanted, uh, I wanted to get some practice in with your blood.”

  “Is that why you came here? Your supply should still have some. Or did you finish going through it already?”

  The young woman shifted on her feet. “I meant with you. It's kinda tough to use your power by myself. Don't wanna cause an accident when I dissociate.”

  “You think you can call on me whenever you please? What am I, your servant? No. Go entertain yourself.”

  Putting her shoes and pants on, Lyra started walking out.

  Xena frowned, stepping forward as if to follow, then hesitated. “Boss, wait.”

  Lyra didn’t stop right away. She exhaled slowly, debating whether she had the energy to deal with this, then turned a bit, her damp hair clinging to the sides of her face. “What?”

  The short-haired supervillain shifted her weight, arms crossed over her chest like she was bracing for an argument. “I just…” She huffed, scowling at the ground before forcing herself to look up. “I admit it, okay? It’s not really about practice.”

  Hearing that, Lyra gave a blank stare. Long enough to make the other girl nervous. “So what’s the matter?”

  “Listen, I know you’re not in this business for the fun of it, or whatever. You have a mission and all that, that’s why you don’t party with us. You don’t care for it. But it’s been a year! Half the time no one knows where you are, and everytime I catch you alone it’s a fifty-fifty chance for you to be dead to the world or miserable. I’m just saying maybe we could, I dunno, do something?”

  “Do something,” Lyra parroted, expression unchanging.

  Xena’s hands went to her forehead, a grimace contorting her features. “I’m saying we could hang out. Outside of work. No powers, no scheming, just… something normal. You ever heard of normal, boss?”

  Lyra didn’t respond immediately. She didn’t sigh, didn’t roll her eyes, didn’t offer any indication that she was even considering the request. She simply stared some more.

  To her credit, Xena didn’t flinch under the scrutiny. It was clear she was serious, even if she had no idea how ridiculous she sounded.

  “Normal, huh?” Lyra tasted the word, noting how foreign it felt to say. She didn’t think it was ever an adjective she would’ve wanted to label herself with, even before everything went to shit.

  “Is this a personal request or a strategic one?” Lyra asked, pulling the towel off her shoulder and folding it with deliberate precision.

  “Does it matter?” Xena pleaded, averting her gaze.

  “It does.”

  A beat passed, then: “Personal.”

  Lyra’s fingers stilled over the fabric of the towel. The weight of that single word hung in the air, more tangible than the humidity clinging to her skin.

  Xena had the audacity to look away as if that would somehow soften the impact of her admission.

  Personal.

  Calliope should have laughed at the absurdity of it. Should have shut it down immediately. Instead, she found herself watching Xena closely, waiting for some kind of clarification or retreat.

  None came.

  “You expect me to entertain your whims now?” she asked, voice calm but edged.

  The cheeky bitch let out a short, exasperated breath. “Boss, it’s not—look, you’re acting like I’m asking you to go braid my hair or some shit. It’s just... you keep everyone at arm’s length. And sure, I get it. We’re not friends, we’re not family, blah blah blah. You’re our leader, and you’ve got a job to do. I’m not arguing that.”

  Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.

  She hesitated, then took a step closer. “But if you don’t let yourself be a person outside of all that, you’re gonna break. And I don’t wanna watch that happen.”

  “You assume that hasn’t happened already,” Lyra said flatly.

  Xena bit her lips, visibly frustrated but refusing to back down. “Then let me pick up the pieces with you.”

  It was such a stupid thing to say. Something soft, something earnest. Something Lyra had no room for.

  And yet, she gently put the towel down and looked deep into those questioning eyes.

  “I’ll think about it,” she finally answered. With that, she turned to leave.

  Xena knew better than to follow.

  *******

  Steaming dark brown liquid poured into a cup, and a pair of hands plopped two white cubes into it, along with a fair amount of milk.

  Elias Voss took a sip of his coffee, creamy, sugary, and with a generous serving of whipped cream on top. A satisfied sigh blew out of him, stretching his stiff back. Just the way he liked it.

  He was enjoying a free morning, having cleared out his schedule for a minor indulgence such as this one. In his fifty-nine years of living, he had discovered the value of trivial luxuries. They helped charge him up with energy, took care of the lingering grogginess from sleep.

  Pushing himself off his kitchen island, Elias tested the movement of his arm, stretching and clenching his hand. After that maniac sliced it off and collapsed a building on him, he had almost believed he actually wasn't going to make it. Stupid, though. That was simply the primal, rudimentary part of his brain speaking, an instinctual fear response to a physical threat.

  Cerese had surrounded him in her barriers before rescuing him from the rubble. Barely in time. That imbecile had almost let him get killed. And his arm had been reattached later that same night. The specialists had done good work, his new scar would fade eventually. He didn’t need long to build himself back up. Benefits of actually having value.

  Ever since the bigger projects were shut down, he’d been granted a position fit for a man of his talents. He could continue his research with access to a vast wealth of up-to-date information throughout the day. Or night. A chuckle escaped him. He could get absorbed in his work sometimes.

  The doorbell rang.

  That was… strange, considering the fact that he wasn’t expecting anyone. He didn’t like surprise visits. Every individual and group important enough to receive his contact information knew that. They knew better than to forego making scheduled appointments with him.

  With deliberate steps, he stepped into a side room to get a look at the cameras. He checked the security feed, seeing who was at the front door. It was a well-built, thinly scarred figure in a delivery man’s outfit, holding a small cardboard box. The upper half of his face was obscured by a wide brim cap.

  Very odd. Had this guy climbed the fence? Elias was confident that he hadn’t left it open.

  “I’m afraid you’re at the wrong address,” he spoke through the intercom. “I didn't order any packages, I guarantee you. Now leave my property.”

  “Are you sure about that, sir?” sounded the reply from the speakers. “It says here that it's addressed to one Mr. Voss. Is this not his residence?”

  Elias paused. Perhaps someone had sent him a package? He didn’t know what the purpose behind it was, as anything related to his profession went through the proper channels, never his front door.

  “No, it is. Give me a moment,” he said while walking towards the hall. Behind his back, he brandished his handgun. A new American model gifted by one of the companies he held equity in. One round would come out on the other side of a concrete wall no problem.

  With deliberate breaths, he opened the door. As expected, the same sight revealed itself to him. A guy holding a box that had his address on it.

  He made a shooing motion at the courier, taking the box in his hand. The weight immediately alleviated his concerns of it being a bomb. Too light. Way too light. Whoever sent it didn’t care if the contents rustled around inside.

  Shaking it resulted in a faint flap. Paper? He read the dotted line where the sender was supposed to be listed, but saw it was left empty. “What did you say was inside?”

  “Why don’t you take a look?” said the delivery man.

  Elias blinked. Something about that tone of voice was extremely odd, a far cry from the polite words a minute ago. He glanced up, seeing the man’s face properly. The first thing that stood out was the onyx eyes. A black so dark they looked like twin voids. The second thing was that toothy smile, feral and vindictive.

  He slammed the door shut, breathing heavily. What in the world was that? Why was he feeling this strange pressure? He eyed the box again, considering just disposing of it.

  “Don’t be shy, Dr. Voss, I’m not a stranger. We go way back.”

  His body seized up, and he yelped in shock. His gaze flitted about until he found the courier from earlier standing at the end of the hallway. How the hell? He quickly raised his gun and started shooting. The octuple-velocity bullets pinged uselessly off the intruder’s clothes. All they elicited was an amused smirk.

  The emergency button in his pocket might break due to how hard he was pressing it for dear life. His gun clattered to the ground, the door handle refusing to budge as he tried to open it with all his might.

  In front of him, the man flicked a finger. Elias flinched and shut his eyes, protecting his face with the package. Or half of it, rather. He heard something slide on the ground, and cautiously opened his eyes.

  Pictures…?

  “If you’re not going to open it, I might as well show you. I don’t have infinite patience, you know?”

  Stall. He needed to stall. “Wh- what do you want? I have money. I can pay you, then we can put this behind us.” No chance of that, he was waiting until help arrived to wipe this stain of filth from the face of the planet.

  The man silently regarded him like he was a dying animal on the side of the road.

  When he realized he had to comply, he did, if only to buy more time. But what he saw shocked him. In the pictures, he saw blood. Tools strewn about. Damaged facilities. Surgery tables. Scalpels scattered. And the failed test subjects were not from any of his commonly known batches. They were too young. Children, legally.

  Confusion filled his mind, and he demanded, “How? How do you know about this? Who are you!”

  The stranger’s grin grew wider. “You don’t recognize me, Dr. Voss? Has it been that long? It has, hasn’t it?”

  Straining from the expansion, the man’s shirt tore, and he transformed into a monstrosity he had never seen in person before, but recognized all the same. Red scales pushed through his ceiling, cracking loose showers of dust. A beastly growl rumbled out of that ursine head, vibrating in Elias’ body.

  “Omega.” He swallowed, fighting to keep his voice steady. “Do we have problems with each other? If I’ve done something to offend you, we can work something out. Please, my resources are many. We can work something out if you tell me what you want.”

  Omega sat down cross-legged, which seemed entirely at odds with his hulking, feral appearance. “What I want? Heh. Bad news is, you can’t do a damn thing about it while your head’s still attached. As for why I’m here now? Heard about the attempt on your life. Was gonna let you stew for a while, drop the big reveal after I tore down the establishment. But you almost went and died on me. Real shame. So, figured I’d move things up a bit. Better to show up early than too damn late.”

  The words left a cold pit forming in the doctor’s gut. Why? Why him!? But then he noticed that Omega’s claws were tapping the ground in a rhythm. A very specific rhythm that Elias had used with exactly one subject over the course of his career. Behavioral experiments.

  “Unit 504,” he recalled, his voice a whisper. “You’re alive?”

  Sadly, the time for waiting had passed. Elias scrambled for anything else to say, but his old test subject was already getting up. “At least the world’ll know about your accomplishments, doc. I know how proud those made you.”

  The kitchen window exploded. Help had arrived.

  Hope flickered in his chest. Maybe he would be saved.

  It made no difference.

  Ivory claws were the last thing Elias Voss ever saw.

  Patreon currently has 20 advance chapters. Click here if you want to read ahead.